


A question of Morals/Intellect/Caution

by Kendas



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:08:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22630783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kendas/pseuds/Kendas
Summary: Trio of fics about Blaise and Terry.Morals: She only wanted to know that he was okay. That was all. Nothing else.Intellect: He his actions were foolish. He just hadn’t realised how far into idiocy they would lead him.:Caution: He’d made an error in judgement. That in itself was worrying. What was worse was that he’d realised and ignored it.
Relationships: Terry Boot/Blaise Zabini
Kudos: 1





	1. A question of Morals

**Title:** A question of Morals.  
**Pairing:** Blaise Zabini/Terry Boot, Mandy Brocklehurst  
**Rating:** Adult  
**Warnings:** Slash, Voyeurism  
**Word Count:** 1,574  
**Summary:** She only wanted to know that he was okay. That was all. Nothing else.  
**A.N:** Inspired by sparkysparky and dementywhatsit and dedicated to both of them  
Not new, just uploading old stories.

****

A question of Morals.

Mandy was bad.

Morally there was clearly something wrong with her because what she was doing was an invasion of privacy.

Terry would kill her if he knew.

Blaise would – She wasn’t quite sure she knew what the Slytherin would do. He was too hard to figure out. Kept his feelings, his motives too closely guarded. 

His façade was flawless.

That was why she was watching. At least, that’s why she told herself she was watching. She wanted to see if she could figure anything more about him out. She wanted to make sure her best friend was safe. To gage how long it might be before she had to deal with his broken heart.

She was definitely going to have to deal with it at some point. Terry wore his heart on his sleeve, and his feelings for the other boy were clear to most of their house.

Terry wrapped his leg around Blaise’s waist. Mandy watched from her hiding place as the tall, far too elegant black boy ground against him, whispering something in his ear that made her best friend flush.

She wondered if Blaise knew about Terry’s feelings for him and chastised herself a moment later for the thought. Of course he knew. One thing Mandy had learned about him was that Blaise Zabini never missed anything.

Mandy bit her bottom lip as the two boys kissed once more. There mouths meshing together so hard she thought they would both have bruised lips later.

Terry already had bruises. 

She could see the reddish-purple mark blooming on the side of his neck from even this distance. Blaise had placed it there as soon as they had met that evening. 

Mandy had specifically been following Terry because he had confided in her that tonight might be The Night. The night when he let Blaise go that last little step. And she had to be there. Had to know he was okay and see how Blaise reacted after. To know if this was it, the moment when her best friend’s heart would be crushed.

Terry had looked around after entering the library, checking the coast was clear before moving to the back. They always seemed to meet in the library. Not that Mandy knew. Not that she had followed him and watched them before.

As Terry had reached the history section a dark hand as smooth and flawless as melted chocolate snaked out and pulled Terry inside a partially enclosed aisle. Mandy had been forced to quicken her steps to get to them in time. Only just remembering to cast a disillusionment charm on herself at the last minute before taking her place at the edge of one of the stacks.

As soon as she peeked around the corner she’d seen them. Blaise pressing Terry hungrily against the shelves, his lips already fastened onto Terry’s neck and one of his hands buried in her friend’s hair.

Mandy had shivered and pressed her thighs closer together.

The two were beautiful together. Complete contrasts. Blaise was all sleek lines, elegance and classical looks. Like a statue. He was mysterious, dominant and imposing. Terry was always slightly rumpled, the epitome of the phrase ‘Boy Next Door’. He was coy and eager, yet still alluring.

But she was not there for the way they looked locked together, all whimpers and groans and groping hands. No, not there for that. The fact that her knickers were wet was just a coincidence. She was here because she cared for Terry. As a friend. His best friend. That was all.

“Want you,” Mandy heard Terry mumble. He was looking up at Blaise through his eyelashes, their faces still so close together, the kiss barely over.

Mandy couldn’t see Blaise’s face that clearly from where she was, but she thought she caught something. A twitch maybe in his cheek. Perhaps his eyes had widened slightly, she couldn’t be sure.

“Do you now?” Blaise replied casually, his fingers skimming down the side of Terry’s face from brow to chin. The long digits caught under Terry’s jaw and tilted his face up.

Mandy’s mouth opened. The question was not an ‘ _are you sure_ ’ like the one Tony had asked her when he had taken her virginity the year before. That wasn’t Blaise’s style. She knew enough about him from her observations to know that. But the same meaning was still implied, just layered under an air of cockiness and challenge.

“Umm, I do,” Terry replied, need and lust deepening his voice. “Please, Blaise. Don’t want to wait any longer.”

Mandy’s eyes returned to Blaise, watching and waiting for his reaction. He did nothing for a moment just regarded Terry carefully. Then she caught a faction of a nod. It was so brief she almost doubted whether she’d really seen it.

Blaise smirked, and Mandy watched as he drew his hips back, sliding a hand between him and Terry. She caught some sort of movement, but could not see it clear enough to know anything more than what she already assumed.

Blaise’s hand was working on Terry’s fly.

Mandy almost convinced herself to walk away at that point. How would she ever be able to look at Terry again after watching him lose his virginity? Seeing something like that was just wrong.

But was it any worse than what she had already done? Was not watching them both up until this point bad enough? Would it really be so much more wrong to stay a while longer?

Terry whined.

“What do you want, Terry?” Blaise purred. His arm was jerking now; Mandy could see it as it moved up and down, Blaise’s hand buried inside Terry’s trousers. His other hand dextrously popping open the buttons on Terry’s shirt, full lips following them with a trail of kisses.

“Tell me exactly what you want me to do.”

Mandy froze. All thoughts of leaving faded. 

She still didn’t know Terry would be safe after all. This could all be a plot to embarrass her best friend for his crush. She wanted to hear Terry’s answer. Just to know he was sure, that was all. It was nothing to do with the fact that her hand was sliding into the waist band of her skirt.

Mandy’s hand stilled with the thumb still hooked over the top of the garment.

 _Wrong!_ she told herself as her fingers brushed the top of the curls covering her cunt. _Wrong!_

“Want you to fuck me,” Terry moaned, his eyes closing and his head falling back to bump against the bookcase.

“I said exactly.” Blaise chuckled. It was a low rumble that shook Mandy as she watched teeth nip one of Terry’s nipples, a tongue following, lapping soothingly at the puckered flesh.

Mandy’s eyes fell closed too and she imagined the tongue moving over her own nipple, but they snapped open quick enough to catch Terry’s response.

“You always want to talk?” Terry complained, pouting up at Blaise. Mandy could see his finger trailing down Blaise’s chest. Her breath caught as she heard button after button pop and then watched as Terry’s arm twisted to push inside Blaise’s trousers.

There was an almost imperceptible hiss of _’fuck’_ from Blaise followed a moment later by a husky, “I like hearing you babble. You come out with such interesting things. Now answer me.”

“I want you,” Terry answered, grinning at the roll of Blaise’s eyes. “I want your cock. Inside me. Fucking me. Gods!” Terry paused and his lips slammed into Blaise’s. “Please just do it.”

Everything else faded for Mandy at that point. The faint hum of background noise coming from the library counter and the corridor beyond. The books around her. Everything else vanished. Everything narrowed down to Blaise and to Terry and to what was happening between them.

Wrong was forgotten. The fact that she was watching her best friend’s first time disappeared. So did her excuses as to why she had followed them.

As Blaise turned Terry, his hands pushing the wizard’s trousers down to hang around his knees, Mandy let her fingers slide the last few inches into her knickers.

While Blaise pushed his own trousers down and drew his wand to cast some sort of charm Mandy didn’t recognise, but that made Terry’s arse wriggle and drew a giggle, Mandy pushed her middle finger inside her cunt.

When Blaise’s fingers wrapped around Terry’s erection, and she saw the purple head of the Slytherin’s own cock pressing between Terry’s arse cheeks, Mandy flicked her clit and bit back a whine that mirrored her friend’s.

Her eyes didn’t miss anything. They caught the possessive gleam in Blaise’s own eyes. They saw the way Terry pressed back against the black boy, urging him deeper. They alighted on the spot on Terry’s neck as Blaise bit into it again and growled. They rolled over the flexing muscles in Blaise’s arse. She didn’t blink or look away once. She heard every dirty word Blaise whispered. Noted ever whimper and whine he drew from Terry. Mandy caught everything. Saw it all. Right down to the shudder that overtook first Terry and then Blaise before they slumped against each other panting. She ingrained it all on her memory, and her hand never stopped moving once, not until she joined them in their shudder.

Mandy was bad.

Morally there was clearly something wrong with her because what she had just done was an invasion of privacy.

_~finis~_


	2. A question of intellect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He his actions were foolish. He just hadn’t realised far into idiocy they would lead him.

**Pairing:** Blaise/Terry, (very vague allusions to Draco/Blaise)  
 **Warnings:** first time  
**A.N:** This is a follow up to A Question of Morals. I have a third part planned. When I wrote that first part I’d always had it in mind to do the story in three voices. I almost left it at one, but Blaise lured me and sparkysparky talked me into it.

****

A question of Intellect

Terry was a fool.

The Sorting Hat had obviously made a mistake because given what he was about to do, he should never have been placed in Ravenclaw.

Mandy thought he was a fool, of that Terry was sure.

Blaise would likely think – Terry wasn’t sure what Blaise would think of him. Most of the time the Slytherin was just too hard too read. Kept his feelings too closely guarded.

He was an enigma. _A puzzle._

Terry agreed with Mandy, not that he’d ever admit that to her. He was well aware that this wasn’t the move of someone who was supposed to be prized for their intellect. When he’d told Mandy of his plans earlier that evening, he hadn’t needed to look into her eyes to see the confirmation of how much he was about to open himself up to danger. He already knew.

He’d seen the same look from her before at any rate. Numerous times. He remembered clearly the look of abject horror she’d turned on him when he’d first confessed his crush to her at the start of the school year.

“Terry,” she had said quietly in a tone that suggested she was talking to a four year old. “Blaise is – I can see why you, uh, like him,” she’d started awkwardly before pausing to clear her throat, “but, well, you won’t take this any further, will you? Because he’s - well he’s Blaise Zabini.”

Mandy had said the name of the object of Terry’s affection like a fully formed explanation. And Terry supposed it was. Every letter in the wizard’s name said it was unwise to fall for him. But Terry hadn’t heeded Mandy or her warning. Just because he understood, agreed even, that didn’t mean he was capable of turning his feelings off.

He could have been angry with her for her reaction, but he wasn’t. He knew it came only from a deep concern for her best friend. He understood that. But understanding didn’t come into it in the end.

Still, Terry hadn’t done anything. Not at the start. Not until much later. Instead he’d sat back and just watched. After all, at that point, Terry had known even less about Blaise, and he didn’t know much more now. But back then, he hadn’t even known if Blaise was that way inclined.

Nobody seemed to know much about Blaise. Even his own housemates, his so called friends, seemed in the dark when it came to where their classmate’s interest lay. Terry had heard Draco Malfoy trying to gleam some hint of Blaise’s inclinations more than once. In fact the blond had seemed to press the subject to such an extent that Terry had started to watch him and to query the wizard’s own motives for his interest.

There were rumours of course. Vague hints that one heard whispered almost out of ear shot. But they seemed to contradict one another. And then when you looked a little closer they vanished into thin air.

So, Terry settled into just observing. Sometimes he caught Draco watching Blaise too, but the blond never seemed to notice him. Draco was too busy staring broodingly at the back of Blaise’s head. Too wrapped up in his agitation that was caused by Blaise’s air of indifference where the Malfoy heir was concerned, Terry suspected.

Terry didn’t brood over Blaise. Terry spent his time more effectively by fantasising about his crush. He imagined what it would be like to have Blaise’s weight pressing down against him. How those full lips would taste as they moved against his. And how it would feel to have the long, dark cock he imagined Blaise to have pressing into his arse.

They were foolish fantasies because they were likely a waste of time. They distracted him in History of Magic when he should have been attempting to pay attention. And they were based only on Terry’s imagination because all he had to base them on was a single kiss he had shared with Stephen Cornfoot the year before when they’d both discussed their sexuality. They’d done nothing except make Terry’s crush worse and make him watch Blaise harder. But he indulged in them all the same. Like with Mandy’s warning, just because he knew they weren’t sensible, it didn’t mean he was capable of stopping.

But then Blaise had started looking back.

The first time it had happened had been in Runes. Terry had been indulging in a fantasy involving Blaise and a rather dark corner below the Ravenclaw Quidditch stand whilst a match was on. His eyes had been moving over Blaise’s back, imaging the way the muscles might move while the wizard’s hand was jerking him off. But then Blaise had turned and caught Terry’s gaze. There had been a slight narrowing of his almond eyes. An almost imperceptible arch of one eyebrow and then his lips had curled just briefly.

If Terry hadn’t just spent the past three months studiously watching the black boy he might have missed the almost imperceptible changes that passed over Blaise’s sculpted face. But he had been watching. And he did see. And his stomach gave a little flip-flop of excitement whilst clenching in fear at the same time.

Terry had caught Blaise looking back more than once in the lead up to Christmas. He wasn’t certain why, he knew Blaise wanted him to know he was looking. He didn’t think he would have caught him so easily otherwise.

He’d told Mandy once. The week before they’d left for the holidays. She’d looked at him aghast from the news and had warned Terry not to jump to conclusions. 

Terry hadn’t, he wasn’t that much of a fool. Not yet. But he had hoped.

It was during one of the Christmas parties that his parents had forced him to attend that he’d first descended into idiocy.

He’d been tipsy. That’s what he called it though anyone else would have declared drunk or inebriated a better word to describe his condition. He’d learned the year before that such a state was a much better way to survive such droll occasions. He’d been babbling to Morag McDougal about something Flitwick had confided in him concerning the syllabus for Charms the following year, when Blaise had appeared and slid into their conversation.

Terry had flushed and been unable to with strain his eyes from moving over Blaise’s body as it stood before him perfectly packaged in immaculate blue dress robes.

Somehow - Terry wasn’t entirely certain how because he’d become rather distracted at that point with the way the robes clung to Blaise’s tall, elegant frame - Blaise had excused them from Morag’s presence and led them into a library that Terry had no idea existed.

Blaise had leant against a bookcase, a tumbler, half full with whiskey dangling from his fingers as he stood regarding Terry.

“Like watching me, do you, Boot?” Blaise asked casually, an amused smirk on his face.

Blaise was playing games with him, Terry knew that. Something in the back of his head warned him not to play games back, but he couldn’t resist. His head was swimming with a pleasant buzzing feeling, and he was alone with Blaise.

“Perhaps. But I’m not the only one who likes watching.”

Blaise snorted. “And what makes you think that I enjoy watching you?”

Terry smiled, small and sly. “I wasn’t talking about you watching me,” he replied, rather pleased with himself.

Blaise’s expression had flickered, his eyes narrowing like the first time he’d looked back and then his lips curled, and he pushed off the bookshelf, prowling two steps towards Terry. “I see. And who were you talking about, pray tell?” 

Terry’s heartbeat rose to a crescendo, but he forced himself to answer even as he stepped back against a shelf. “Draco Malfoy. He watches you rather a lot too.”

For the first time Blaise’s reaction was clear. He smirked, broadly. And closed the gap between them, his hand reaching out and slipping below Terry’s dress robes to skim down his side. “I’m not interested in future Death Eaters,” he purred. 

Terry shivered and unconsciously, unwisely, arched into Blaise’s touch. His kiss with Stephen hadn’t felt nearly as good as Blaise’s fingers did as they skimmed over his skin through his shirt. “And who are you interested in?” Terry asked, hoping for the answer he’d only before allowed himself to fantasise about.

Blaise watched him for a moment. It felt like a century to Terry. Then he leant in, his tongue licking the shell of Terry’s ear. “At the moment,” he whispered, “I find you rather intriguing.”

They’d kissed then. Blaise’s lips pressing against Terry’s, soft and convincing, encouraging him to open. Then their tongues were sliding against each other’s, fingers were digging into Terry’s hip and hands were clenched in robes. It was more than Terry had experienced before. It was more than he’d expected. It was hungry and hot and intoxicating. Blaise tasted like fine whiskey and smelled of some kind of sweet, charred wood. Terry couldn’t get enough.

When Blaise finally pulled back, Terry had been hard, his erection straining against his trousers, and his breath coming in short pants.

Blaise had looked him over, a hint of surprise on his face. Terry had been relieved to see that Blaise was at least not completely unaffected even though what effect he had had was hardly noticeable. The start of a frown spread across Blaise’s face and then was gone.

“I’ll see you at school,” the wizard said, before disappearing through the doors, leaving Terry to brush his finger over his lips and grin like a fool. For he was a fool now. His intelligence had fled with the touch of Blaise’s lips.

What had followed had been two months of liaisons. Of heated kisses in alcoves between classes and long moments wrapped in Blaise’s arms in the back of the library before curfew. And with every touch, every kiss, every nervous look from Mandy, Terry’s crush had grown worse.

It wasn’t sensible. Blaise had warned Terry himself during their first encounter with his carefully chosen response regarding his interest; there was no way it was going to last. Terry knew he was going to get hurt. Knew it was just a question of time before his boyfriend - Could he even call him that? – grew bored. But just like the hopeless fantasies, and Mandy’s warnings it didn’t matter. Terry fell. Hard. And he knew that he wanted his first time to be with Blaise. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t be sure Blaise would still want him after.

Terry’s hands flattened against the leather spines of the books as Blaise pressed into him. His eyes closed, and he had to fight not to clench at the intrusion. But the spell Blaise had cast made the entry easier and the pleasure from the thumb moving over the head of his cock distracted him from the slight pain.

“Fuck! So tight” Terry heard Blaise exclaim in a murmur. He was starting to relax now and pressed back against Blaise, wanting to feel more of him. Needing him deeper.

A hand gripped Terry’s hip and pulled him back against Blaise, The other boy’s cock sinking completely into Terry’s arse.

Terry whimpered as it brushed over a spot that made him feel like every hair on his body was standing up. It was so much more than the few gropes they’d indulged in before.

Blaise started slow. Controlled. Like so much of his personality. But as Terry whimpered and writhed, pressing back against him and begging for more, something in Blaise seemed to break. Terry was too lost to pin point exactly what had caused it, but Blaise’s thrusts had sped up. His fingers had dug in harder, pressing tight enough to leave bruises in Terry’s skin. Dirty words had poured from Blaise’s mouth and slipped their way along Terry’s neck in kisses that were too gentle to be from the same lips.

Terry couldn’t hold back. It was his first time and it was all too much. He tried to bite his orgasm back, somewhat embarrassed by coming so quickly, but Blaise’s cock was brushing that spot inside him with every movement, and he just couldn’t hold off any longer.

Terry mewled as he came, his cock twitching in Blaise’s hand. He buried his head against the arm he’d braced against the bookshelf as tears pushed their way from his eyes. The amount of emotion he was feeling too much for him to contain.

Blaise growled and bit into Terry’s shoulder, somehow continuing to fuck him. 

When Blaise did come, Terry was starting to sag against the shelves. It had probably only been five minutes, if that, since his own climax, but it felt longer and the adrenalin that had been pumping through his system since dinner had faded, leaving exhaustion behind in its stead.

Blaise slumped against his back. Terry felt both of the wizards arms move around his waist, supporting him as they slid to the ground. Blaise head dropped to rest against Terry’s shoulder. A hand rose and turned Terry’s face to the side, a look of concern crossing Blaise’s face as the tears continued their escape from Terry’s eyes.

Terry shook his head, understanding the look. “I’m okay. Didn’t hurt me,” he murmured, leaning back against Blaise. 

Blaise brushed the backs of his fingers over Terry’s cheek.

It happened then. Without thinking, a thought tumbled from Terry’s mouth. One he had never meant to voice, knew he shouldn’t say aloud, but that had been rolling over and over in his mind most of the night. “Love you.”

Blaise stilled. Terry felt the wizard’s body turn rigid behind him, and he winced.

Terry was a fool.

The Sorting Hat had obviously made a mistake because given what he had just done, he should never have been placed in Ravenclaw.

_~*~_


	3. A question of caution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’d made an error in judgement. That in itself was worrying. What was worse was that he’d realised and ignored it.

**Indiscretions**

**Title:** A Question of Caution(3/3)  
 **Author:** Kendas  
 **Pairing:** Blaise/Terry (very vague allusions to Draco/Blaise)  
 **Rating:** Adult  
 **Warnings:** first time  
 **Word Count:** 3,736  
 **Summary:** He’d made an error in judgement. That in itself was worrying. What was worse was that he’d realised and ignored it.

**A Question of Caution**

Blaise was definitely in trouble.

This was certainly grounds for concern because usually cause for such an indiscretion would not have slipped past his defences.

His mother would be disappointed in him. But there was nothing new there.

His father would – Blaise had no idea what his father would think. He knew nothing about him. Not even if he was alive. Though given his mother’s track record Blaise doubted that was a possibility. Perhaps he’d be embarrassed and furious about having a pouf for a son. Blaise would likely never know. The man was as much a mystery to Blaise as the persona he had crafted himself was to his housemates.

Blaise was proud of his façade. It was almost perfect. He needed it to be because he had no intention of letting anyone close. Not after what he’d seen such relationships, such emotions, do to people. Not when he’d witnessed a string of powerful men reduced to corpses by their lust for his mother.

Blaise had made the decision at an early age not to ever run the risk of that happening to him.

Except his façade wasn’t that flawless anymore. He had a chink in it. The chink had got him into this mess. The worst thing about the chink was that Blaise had realised the moment it had been made, and he hadn’t done anything to repair it.

He’d known from the moment he’d kissed Terry that he should be careful where the boy was concerned, yet he hadn’t heeded his own warning.

Blaise had been aware of Terry’s eyes on him since shortly after they had returned for their sixth year. It hadn’t been hard to notice. Terry certainly wasn’t subtle with his looks. The wizard might be unquestionably bright, but he wore his emotions and interest clearly.

Even Tracey had noticed. 

Tracey was one of the few in his house that Blaise had any time for. She was naive and misled, but underneath all that Blaise had seen something that had interested him enough not to write her off like he had most of his housemates.

He’d been sat in one of the chairs in the corner of the Slytherin common room reading a text on cross referencing Celtic mythology with wizarding history when she’d approached him about Terry.

“Budge up,” she ordered, grinning down at him before dropping into his lap. 

Blaise rolled his eyes and placed the book to one side. He tugged Tracey more firmly into his lap and arched an eyebrow at her. Somehow he’d grown fond of the witch. He wouldn’t have allowed such behaviour from anyone else. “Presumptuous little madam, aren’t you,” he teased. “One of these days I’ll stand up and turf you off my lap and onto the floor.”

“No, you won’t,” Tracey replied confidently, leaning over and picking up his book so she could glance at the cover. “You enjoy the chance to tease me too much. You wouldn’t pass that opportunity up.” She paused, thumbing through the book. “Draco’s watching you again,” she tossed out casually.

“I know.” Blaise sniffed and retrieved the book from her hands. “I somehow doubt you’d find that very interesting. What is it you say about History of Magic?”

“Anything I think will wind you up,” Tracey answered with a smirk. “Draco’s not the only person watching you lately, you know?” she added smugly.

Blaise huffed. “Sometimes I wonder if you doubt my intelligence.” He knew exactly whom Tracey was referring to. He also knew what she was getting at, and he was not about to have this conversation with her. Other than a few select individuals whom he had chosen to take to his bed, Tracey was one of the few that held more than just a suspicion of where his inclinations lay. He let her get a fraction closer than anyone else and because of that she was allowed to see slightly more. Some people wrote Tracey off as _‘a bit of an airhead’_ , but Blaise knew better. She could be very insightful. She was being so now. Still, that didn’t mean he was going to gossip about potential conquests with her or reveal anything of a more personal nature. Blaise didn’t do that.

“I’m just saying –“

“I know what you’re saying, Tracey, and unless you want to do your Potions homework on your own you’ll keep your mouth closed on such matters. I’ve warned you before.”

Tracey bit her lip, and Blaise sighed as she continued to watch him. “Draco hasn’t noticed yet.”

“No. And I doubt he will. His eyes are blinkered, and he has bigger concerns.” Blaise surreptitiously looked over to where the blond lay sprawled, his head in Pansy’s lap as she pandered to him. Draco was scowling, his mouth drawn up in a pout. Blaise considered for a moment what a wasteful path the wizard had taken, then looked away. 

“Come on,” he said after a while, putting Draco and Terry out of his head. “Let’s get that essay done for Slughorn.”

It hadn’t been long after that conversation that Blaise had looked back at Terry. He’d had to choose his moment carefully so that no one else would notice. Draco in particular. And when he had looked back he’d found quite the arousing picture.

Terry’s pupils dilated, his head lent on one hand, and his quill being sucked between two plump pink lips, his thoughts clearly written on his face. Blaise’s cock had twitched at the idea of just what they might entail. 

Blaise was used to being watched. After all, Draco had been doing so for years. His mother watched him too; made sure he didn’t put a foot out of line and endanger her image, her position. But Draco didn’t look at Blaise like Terry was. Draco looked at him with frustration, like a child who is told he’s not allowed the toy he wants. Not with barely with strained lust.

Blaise’s lips curled and he looked away. 

He’d watched Terry more frequently in the days that followed. Sometimes he allowed the other boy to catch him, enjoying the confusion and emotions that played across Terry’s face when he did so. But mostly he watched discretely and tried not to analyse how interested he was is the Ravenclaw. Those thoughts made him – uncomfortable.

Blaise’s interest had only grown though. Terry was bright. Bright enough to challenge Blaise and there were few, if any, of his peers that could manage such a feat. But Terry did. He proved it in the trap he set and the game he played the night Blaise stepped up his involvement with the Ravenclaw from just watching.

Terry had caught Blaise out. Forced him to admit something he hadn’t wanted to with his observation regarding Draco. Not only that, but the fact that he’d noticed the blond’s interest in the first place earned him Blaise’s respect. Mostly Draco’s interest in Blaise was ignored or misinterpreted as distrust.

Blaise had been unable to stop himself from stepping forward and reaching for Terry.

“I’m not interested in future Death Eaters,” Blaise purred. The statement was true. Draco was pretty enough to attract Blaise’s attention, but he held none of the interest that Terry did. Like many old families, Terry had grown up listening to the same rhetoric as Draco. Blaise knew. He’d heard the elder Boot’s views on Muggleborns at parties. But unlike Draco, Terry had made up his own mind, proving that he could think for himself by taking a half-blood as a best friend.

Draco was doomed, his intellect ignored, and his potential wasted. Blaise had no time or interest for the Dark Lord’s cause. It was folly. But Terry’s wasn’t allowing himself to be led down that path.

Blaise slid his hand inside the wizard’s robes. He was so responsive, Blaise thought, watching with fascination as Terry arched against him. He’d done nothing more than skim his hand down his side yet Terry was shivering and encouraging more. Blaise had realised then how far the wizard’s experience went, and he was surprised at how aroused the suspicion made him.

He pressed his mouth against Terry’s, not needing to hear the sharp intake of breath the boy made because he could feel it against his skin, drawing the air from his mouth. Blaise pulled back and slowed the kiss from escalating too quickly. He needed to keep his control, because there was something about Terry that was threatening to break it. 

Blaise brushed his lips against the other’s boy’s and felt Terry melt against him. It was so tempting to let his body meld against Terry’s willing one. His lithe frame felt so good as it aligned itself against Blaise’s.

Opening his mouth, Blaise flicked his tongue out, briefly grazing Terry’s lips with it, before pulling back. A low whine sounded and it vibrated through Blaise’s chest as it slipped from Terry’s mouth. He felt the wizard’s mouth open against his, and Blaise pushed his tongue forward again, running it along the inner edge of Terry’s lips this time. The Ravenclaw’s hands fisted where they held Blaise’s arms. The material of his dress robes bunching up. There would be creases no doubt from how tightly Terry was gripping the fabric.

Blaise’s control held firm though. It wasn’t until Terry’s tongue moved tentatively out and stroked against his own that he lost it.

His hands slipped from Terry’s hips, each one moving to cup his arse and drawing him harder against Blaise, pulling their crotches firmly together. His mouth moved faster. His tongue slid more urgently. His lips pressed more firmly. He could feel the length of Terry’s cock hardening, growing and thrusting against him, and Blaise’s responded similarly in turn.

He couldn’t get close enough. And the need he felt started to overwhelm him. In panic Blaise pulled back sharply and stepped away. Quickly pulling his defences back up.

No one had affected him like that before. Blaise couldn’t even say exactly what it was that had caused him to react so. He looked Terry over as the boy leaned, slumped and panting against the stack and wondered what about the wizard was different.

Blaise felt uncomfortable. He needed to understand why he’d had such a reaction, but he couldn’t quite fathom it. Something had slipped, and he couldn’t allow that. Could not allow himself to be opened to a potential weakness like that.

“I’ll see you at school,” he forced out, departing the room quickly, needing to regain his own space and composure.

Up until that night in the library Terry had just been a bit of a game. Some fun. Blaise hadn’t taken him seriously beyond his potential for a satisfying and mutually enjoyable fuck. But afterwards he’d been a risk, one Blaise should have stepped back from.

He had for a while. For a whole two weeks after they’d returned from the Christmas holiday’s Blaise had ignored the Ravenclaw.

The problem was that it was bloody hard to ignore him. They’d taken most of the same electives. And Terry was always there, his eyes on Blaise even as he pretended to ignore him.

It had all grown too much. There had been too many unsatisfying wanks in the shower, and Draco’s looks were irritating Blaise more than ever. He needed something to release the tension. One day after charms Blaise had waited for Terry inside an alcove on the third floor. Terry always stayed later after charms. He was Flitwick’s prize student and the two were always staying after class to discuss something. Blaise waited and as Terry left he pulled the boy inside and pressed him against the stones. His eyes had moved over Terry’s face once and then his lips had been upon him.

That incident had started a trend. One that had continued for over two months. But Blaise had held back from pressing Terry too far. It had been clear that the wizard wasn’t ready for more. Terry was chaste, and Blaise had no intention or wish to mar his innocence by giving him a first time he’d regret. That innocence, Blaise was starting to suspect, was part of his allure.

But as time passed kisses and dry humping had escalated to hands moving over each other’s trouser clad erections, which had in turn progressed to hands slipping inside each other’s uniform’s to bring the other off. 

Terry had grown more confident. He’d wanted more.

Blaise had blown him for the first time two weeks earlier, and he’d been more than surprised when Terry had returned the favour, eagerly dropping to his knees with a sly smirk up at Blaise. It hadn’t been the best blow job Blaise had ever had, but there had been something in it that made it more, _better_ , than it actually was, which was too much teeth, lips vaguely hesitant and not quite as firm as Blaise preferred.

Everything between them had continued to escalate. Blaise had found a desire to see more of the other boy. He’d pushed the wariness he’d felt after their first kiss aside, foolishly ignoring it.

Until tonight. The culmination of it all; the groping hands, eager mouths, shared fantasies whispered in dark corners. And Blaise had really needed it tonight. 

“Want you,” Terry murmured, looking up so coyly at Blaise that there could be no misunderstanding what it was he wanted.

Blaise’s cock jerked in his pants, his eyes widened a fraction, and his fingers pulled Terry minutely closer. Just the thought of finally getting to fuck him almost made Blaise lose it.

“Do you now?” Blaise asked, tilting Terry’s chin up, already knowing, but needing the confirmation.

“Umm, I do. Please, Blaise. Don’t want to wait any longer.”

Blaise forced himself to hold on a fraction longer then he smirked. Everything else faded. Blaise’s hand was between them, pulling Terry’s cock from within his trousers. 

He needed this. But he needed to know Terry’ was giving it him for the right reasons.

Terry’s hand reached into Blaise’s trousers, his eyes playful and impatient as Blaise asked him what he wanted. The teasing quality of their conversation belied the needy way that they were both fisting each other, but Blaise needed the banter. Needed something to help him hold back and not loose his mask of indifference completely with Terry.

It was slow and controlled, the opposite of the way Blaise’s lips had latched onto Terry’s neck when they’d met earlier that night, when he’d told the other boy in a hushed murmur, _“Kristof, my stepfather, is dead.”_

Blaise kept his head, just like with their first kiss. He held everything back. _Like he always did._ He wanted more than anything to just lose himself in the other boy and forget the letter he’d received from his mother earlier that evening. But he didn’t. Couldn’t. Would not allow himself to open himself up to such danger.

Blaise was methodical. Seductive. Careful. Completely determined.

He remembered the charm to prepare Terry to make his entry easier.

His kept his fingers controlled, pumping them slowly into Terry’s arse to loosen him up.

He made sure Terry was completely relaxed before he gave into the wizard’s demands for more and pressed his cock inside instead if his fingers, his hand finding the boy’s frenulum to distract from any discomfort as Blaise groaned at the feeling of being inside him.

But then Terry had whined that he was Blaise’s and the demonstration of trust it indicated, particularly given Blaise’s less than secret family history, broke him.

His fingers gripped Terry’s hips and drew the boy back sharply against him. He forgot it was Terry’s first time and gave into his need to forget. To just feel. Terry twitched in his hand, the wizard whined and bucked back against Blaise as his came against the books and his stomach.

Blaise wasn’t close yet. His lips found the mark he’d left earlier. He growled low as Terry’s arse contracted around him, small after shocks of orgasm washing through the wizard. He kept thrusting, his fingers digging in deeper to Terry’s hips, his teeth almost biting too far into Terry’s skin until he found his release and Blaise moaned.

Terry started to slip, and Blaise quickly pulled him back against him, suddenly realising how boneless the other boy had become. He lowered them to their knees, settling Terry back against his chest, his cock slipping spent from the other boy.

He felt – sated, almost peaceful, _close._

The feelings weren’t allowed to last long.

Terry’s chest was rising and falling in uneven patterns, and Blaise suddenly realised how rough he’d been. He turned Terry’s head, concern rising when he saw the tears running down Terry’s face.

Had he hurt him?

“I’m okay. Didn’t hurt me,” Terry reassured quickly, settling further back into Blaise to prove that he hadn’t lied.

Blaise felt himself exhale and brushed his finger’s over Terry’s cheek in relief, wiping away some of the tears, a little angry at himself for not being more careful with the wizard. It wasn’t like him.

“I love you,” Terry said in breath.

Blaise froze. His whole body went rigid and a multitude of emotions washed over him.

He closed his eyes, and he pushed Terry from his lap. “I can’t do this,” he murmured, memories from his childhood jumping to the forefront of his mind; a clear image of his mother in the drawing room of their house in France. Blaise stood and turned away from the wizard, unwilling to see the response to his decision to leave on Terry’s face less his resolve brake.

Slowly, denying his reluctance, Blaise walked towards the edge of the alcove of books. He half expected to hear the sound of tears from behind him. He anticipated hearing something at least. Some reaction. Or to feel something; a hand on his arm pulling him back perhaps.

But nothing came.

Terry was silent and if anything that made it harder for Blaise to walk away. Someone else would have begged or made a scene, but it was as if Terry didn’t expect anything else from him. Or was it just that he was bright enough to know that reacting so would make things worse not better?

Blaise paused against the edge of the stack, not quite willing to go any further yet. He couldn’t do this. He didn’t have it in him. But he couldn’t quite go through with leaving either. As uncomfortable as he was with the realisation, Blaise needed Terry. Found something in his company, his lips, his hands, his arse, his cock that made him want more of him.

He was just as weak in that moment as his stepfathers, and he hated himself for it.

He turned around.

Terry had his back to Blaise, his head low as he pulled up his trousers and began to do up the buckle. 

Closing his eyes and drawing on all his willpower Blaise stepped up behind him. His hand reached out and closed on Terry’s hip, turning him to face him.

Terry yelped in surprise, and then his expression turned to one of confusion. “It’s okay, go. I… I didn’t really expect you to stay afterwards anyway.”

Blaise looked over Terry’s face, intrigued by what he found. There was sadness and dejection there as he’d expected, but there was a determined set about his jaw. His hand rose unbidden and cupped Terry’s cheek. For a moment the other boy lent into the caress, but then pulled away.

“I don’t regret it, Blaise. I knew what I was doing. I’m not going to cause you any problems. I understand. As much as I can, I understand.” Terry turned away, retrieving his tie from where it had been hurriedly discarded earlier that evening. “And while I didn’t mean to say w… what I said, I’m not going to take it back.” His voice quivered over the last sentence, for the first time revealing just how much the boy was holding back.

Blaise could have walked away at that moment. Terry had given him leave to do so. Forgiven him even and for some reason Blaise found that that forgiveness had been something he’d needed to hear. But instead he found himself stepping closer again. “I can’t,” he said, 

“Do this. I know. I just said it’s okay. Go. Please.”

This was a mistake. He was opening himself to too many risks. 

Still he stepped forward and turned Terry to him again. Blaise’s forehead was creased in a frown as he looked over the other boy and tried to figure out why he was doing this.

 _So innocent_ Blaise thought. Terry’s expression was open and honest as he looked up at Blaise. Blaise hadn’t felt innocent in years. Hadn’t allowed himself to be that open. Not since the first time he’d seen one of his stepfather’s die. Not since he’d realised his mother’s part and been made a keeper of the dirty little family secret. But Terry didn’t think twice about it and something in Terry seemed contagious. It was like he was finding his own innocence through Terry. He made him feel somewhat normal, and Blaise had never felt that before, he’d just played at it.

He pulled Terry against him, brushing their lips together. “I’m not promising anything,” he murmured, their lips touching as he spoke.

Terry’s eyes widened, his mouth opened a fraction and then closed. He nodded up at Blaise and to his relief didn’t question him or his actions any further.

Blaise breathed out. He pulled Terry’s tie from between the wizard’s fingers, wrapping the blue and bronze length around his fist. Needing to hold onto him a little longer, but not able to do anything more for the time being.

Blaise was almost content.

Blaise was definitely in trouble.

This was certainly grounds for concern because usually cause for such an indiscretion would not have slipped past his defences.

Something shimmered as they stepped out into the main area of the library, but Blaise’s concentration was pulled away from investigating it further by Terry reaching up to stroke his face. 

Blaise looked back to the edge of the alcove, caching a glimpse of the person hiding there for a moment as the spell covering them faltered. 

At least he wasn’t the only one demonstrating a lack of good judgement, Blaise thought.

_~finis~_


End file.
